Harusame Stars
by NamidaNoHao63
Summary: a new story on the block. full of OC-ness and also angst!XD When Laharl tells Etna and Flonne he doen't need them anymore, what will it mean to him? when a sweet devil takes him in for a time, will it make these bad dreams go away? rated for mild language
1. Onlt the Beginning

so i said it was comming later... well, i got typing early. XD  
nice mix of OC and my style for Laharl, i think XDD

please review??

and i do not own Disgaea, just Atsu here later.

* * *

**-Chapter One- Only the Beginning**

"Why is it that all you ever have to talk about it LOVE!?" the young Demon Prince screamed. He was in the angel trainee's face, and was highly tempted to shove her over. Etna, his vassal, watched from atop a larger rock from a safer distance, as was her now seemingly daily routine, as the fourth pointless fight broke out between the two. It was the second time he stopped walking altogether just to get in Flonne's face. The other two he dealt with annoyed, but at least somewhat patiently.

But now he'd had enough.

"Flonne, if all you ever cared about was _love_ then why'd you come _here_ in the first place?!" he continued hotly.

Etna's turn then. She dropped down from her perch and nearly glared at him. "How many times has she told you, Laharl?" she snapped.

"I was sent to assassinate—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before—"

"THEN WHY DID YOU ASK!?" there were days when Etna was calm, slightly understanding and patient with Laharl. Today was not one of them.

The only one highly tempted to get in someone' face now was her. This was a battle she openly willing to fight. Even against her 'master'. She and Flonne had slowly gotten used to each other, slowly begun to understand each other, over the many days they had travelled. Flonne considered her a good and only friend, seeing as Etna had repeatedly insisted that Laharl was not interested in… 'Human friendship'.

Laharl was silent even for jus the slightest moment. He saw the look in Etna's eyes that said many things. What it mainly meant, was that she would not only verbally, but _physically _fight him. He knew that if he could read minds, hers would be streaming with things he'd rather have her keep to herself. All insults, all the time.

Though he persistently said he was better and stronger than she was, Etna was not someone he was willing or even ready to tangle with. It was as if he'd forgotten what she was fully capable of. And at times, lost in the memories of his father or mother Flonne continually kicked up within any of her infamous spiels on love, caring, emotion and all that, or simply the speech itself, he would seem to forget even who he was.

And although he always said he cared nothing for his father and said that he was a fool, Flonne always went on about how he _should _feel instead of his usual attitude toward the matter. It was simply one big circle about who was right and who wasn't.

Laharl, stubborn as he was, always insisted he was the 'right'. Laharl, Prince of Demons, wrong? No, he just simply couldn't have that. And so he was constantly at was with not only himself, but them as well.

Most of the Prinnies stood well out of his way. Any now who sided with Etna or Flonne, defined or refused him, were instantly thrown out; and at times, their Hell taken as well. Etna said nothing about this theft, but as usual, Flonne always did.

This was the current topic. One of the more common Prinnies had muttered an ill comment towards the Prince and of course, with his super-sonic hearing, he'd caught it almost instantly. He stole its Hell and dropped-kicked it far off, warning the other Prinnies the same would happen to them, should they dare to speak of him that way again.

"Laharl, it's wrong to steal!" Flonne picked up again. "And don't you care anything about the poor Prinnies? You make them work so hard… and for what? Just to steal their money and banish them? That's not fair—!"

"Don't talk to _me _about fair…!" he growled, his voice low and threatening. His anger and memories rising. He never minded the anger. No, it was the memories that bothered him.

Memories that he'd said meant nothing to him. Memories that were to be long dead; like those who they are of. Memories that now clouded his mind, and at opportunities like this, compelled to say strange things.

"my father is _dead _bec—" he stooped himself short before he could allow himself to continue. Why in the world, he thought, would he say such a thing? Using his father's death as an example for a time and conversation –err, argument- such as this one? "Dammit, Flonne…" he cursed indirectly, just adding a name to it to indicate he 'wasn't' doing as he really was. Hell, what, now he was talking to himself? It was at least for what he considered self punishment: he nearly let one heck of a lie as he wanted to consider it, slip from his lips. "It's your fault!" Well. Nice cover.

"That you drop-kicked one of my Prinnies half way across the planet?" Etna raged, wanting to slap some sense into him. "I don't think so! Flonne had nothing to d with it! It called you a cur under its breath and you got rid of it, stealing its Hell! That's _it, _Laharl! Flonne is only just trying to teach you a lesson about it now!"

The Prinnies behind her cheered, and he shot them the deadliest glare in his arsenal. Most of them quieted instantly. Others, knowing it was two girls against one guy, knew he had not a chance. He may be stubborn, but he was no idiot.

"What if I don't want to be taught a lesson…?" he muttered weakly, crossing is arms. See? Stubborn. And… maybe it wasn't exactly the greatest way to cover…

"NO! Would you shut up and listen to what she has to say for once!?" she finished loudly.

Laharl had the strangest urge to simply hide his face, feeling it flush a deep red. Weird. Never felt that…. No. Shit… he knew what was coming. Once. He'd felt this only once before, and it was when…

A sharp tone of singing ran through his mind like a wildfire.

Though they were all mainly self induced, these fights were stressful on him. He was merely tired of hearing her preach and wanted her to stop. That was all… but no matter how many times he tried to be calm or subtle about it… even outright, he couldn't seem to stop himself from sounding so cruel, never able to find the right words or tone for it. And it always ended in a fight because of it.

The breath caught in his throat, and he coughed lightly, shaking it off. "I'm tired," He lied, making no direct eye-contact; as it should have been. He must have looked as bad as he felt then. "I want to stop somewhere to sleep."

Simple.

For a moment, though, Etna and Flonne were dumbstruck about how easily he let them win. Whenever he changed the subject to suddenly like this, it meant he was done, and they'd won.

So far it was 4 and 0.

"And I want my own room. No more of this 'historical museum' crap you came up with last time, you got it, Prinnies?" he had a few reasons to say this at least.

"Well…" Etna sighed, glancing off into the glimmering distance, full of lights from a small town. "It _is _getting late… and I'm getting kinda hungry anyways. Sure, why not? Let's go."

Flonne, now thunderstruck to say in the least, gazed at the two – they had their backs turned to one another, but she also knew Laharl was purposely avoiding them. She had his other side figured out.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Etna barked, looking fiercely down at the nearest Prinny. "Go on and get us… _two _rooms in the nearest hotel or resting place! NOW!!"

_Two. _So at least she was cooperating the way he wanted her to. And at a time he needed it most.

Why in the hell should he have to share a room with two girls anyway…?


	2. Stand Alone

hurray for quick updates XD

-Chapter Two- Stand Alone

Once safe within the confines of his separate room, Laharl tossed aside his sword and threw himself heavily onto the bed set up in the centre of the small room. The bed gave a small creak and a small rebound to his slight weight.

He stayed as he was, starting blankly up at the low ceiling while laying on his back, arms spread lazily and scarf uplifted and messy around him. Even in the slightest moment while reminiscing about the previous fights and events, he had the same strange urge to become tense. Before he allowed his face to redden, he rolled to his side abruptly, pulling the scarf with him acting as if it were a blanket of some sort.

_Drifting…_ if he could, he would be nodding, but slowly, he _was_ drifting off to sleep…

Until, that is, there was a knock at the door.

He was slightly startled at first, seeing as it had been completely at ease and the room had been ultimately quiet, and then the fact that sound seems to be so heavily amplified while just entering a state of, well, sleep.

He relaxed quickly, smoothing out his scarf to make it seem as if he were simply asleep, making no attempt at answering the soft rapping at the door.

"Laharl…" it was Flonne, her coaxing voice invading his ears. "Laharl, are you still in there…? Laharl…?"

She continued with his name, as if to annoy. What a good job. "Lahar—"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!!" he burst out, jerking upright, the scarf whirling away from him.

"…can I come in…?"

"Why?" he insisted sharply. "Give me one good reason I should let you come in here and cut down on my nap time; …and stop saying my name so much. It's annoying, from someone like you." Again. He snapped at her again, when he had no direct intention of doing so. Habit, perhaps? He couldn't decide.

"…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for earlier. Fighting is no way to settle our differences or beliefs…"

He heard the tenderness in her voice and gave the door a defiant look, pulling into his knees for a moment. He wondered if her words were really directed to him. Laharl contemplated what he would say next if she should do it again. Or, in time for one of her speeches he knew was coming whether he denied it or not. He wondered why he bothered with it anymore. That, at least, could spare him some fights. "Fine," he muttered, sitting up again. "But if you say ONE thing about love, I'm kicking you out like I did to that Prinny."

There was a small rattling from the other side of the wall and he rolled his eyes impatiently. "Laharl… the door—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," He flicked his wrist and the door flung open. "It's locked." He let himself fall back against the bed once more, attempting to look at least somewhat casual, and less frail, kicking a leg over to cross them over his knee, arms behind his head. "Wow…" he rasped lowly. "What do you _really _want, Flonne…?"

She fidgeted uncomfortable, as if not knowing where or how to begin, and wrung the frill of her dress, her eyes darting from here to there. "Well… _really! _I just wanted to apologize to you about all the unkind things Etna and I said to you back there… I don't mean to upset you – I don't know about Etna… but… if it makes you feel better, I'll stop talking about all that for a while…"

He stared at her, wondering if she was serious. Of course she was serious – it was just a matter of how long it would hold up before she threw around another of her speeches. He simply waited for her to finish the one she had going currently.

"Laharl…?"

"What."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Sure, sure, whatever." He mumbled, not too convincingly. Noticing his blank glazed look going straight past her, Flonne sighed sombrely; a sound amplified by the stillness of the stale room, and hugged her shoulders.

"Okay... well, I just wanted you to know I was sorry…" she led herself out, shutting the rickety, stubborn door with her, leaving Laharl standing alone before his bed.

_Stand alone…_ he thought this phrase for a moment, and considered it. If Flonne wasn't there in the first place, he concluded, then I wouldn't have to deal with the stupid, useless speeches OR fights anymore… and if it weren't for Etna's damn Prinnies…

"That's it…" he declared tightly, clenching his fists, showing a stature of empowerment to himself. "I _will_ stand alone…it's not a bad thing…!"

Another knock.

Before he had a chance to respond, Etna's voice floated in, chiming; "Lord Laharl, I suggest not talking to yourself—people tend to think you're crazy—"

"SHUT UP, ETNA!!" he yelled feverishly, shoulders hunched up tightly, arms locked at his sides, irritation spiking.

So if he was left alone, away from these two…

It really would be best if he could only…

_Stand alone…_

Morning came quickly, too quickly, and as usual, Laharl was hard asleep. This time, it was Etna's job to get him up.

"LAHARL!!" she bustled in noisily, kicking the door in carelessly. She would have one of the Prinnies pay for the damage later of course, and cared nothing for it. "Laharl! C'mon, let's go, time to get up!!"

At her rate, nothing was ever gentle, and that mainly included most anything to do with Laharl; especially trying to wake him up in the mornings. It usually involved some kind of violence. With him sleeping so openly on such a low bed, now seemed to be the perfect time for her to do what she'd always wanted to.

As hard and quickly as she could, she drop-kicked him on the stomach sharply, sending him up in a flash, gasping for air. At this point, he bent, gagging, and choked. "Are you CRAZY!?" he roared, standing after a moment when he was able to breathe again. 'do you wanna KILL me or somethin' !?"

Etna gave a sly smirk and devious giggle. "No,' she teased. "But c'mon! They have breakfast ready downstairs for us."

"Ungh…" he moaned. "I don't think I'm so hungry anymore, after _that…_" this was not as sarcastic as it seemed. He held a hand over his stomach. "y' crazy—"

"Great! Let's go!" Etna, cutting him short purposely, grabbed him by the wrist and practically dragged him down the small flight of stairs just outside of his room to the dining room.

Despite what he'd said, Laharl still managed to eat his usual amount; nearly everything.

After breakfast was finished, Etna, as she had originally intended, had a Prinny replace the door she destroyed and also pay for rent. They were soon again on their way.

Laharl, however, did not seem in top condition. He walked more slowly than the others, and behind them, not leading them as he normally would. Etna joked around, saying it was that it was the hit he took to the gut from her. She of course said this with no sympathy however.

But Flonne was naturally concerned. She'd even tried a heal spell on him, thinking if it really was what Etna was joking about that was wrong, it would help at least some.

He said nothing.

Anyone else could have easily told the two he was obviously lost deep in the void of his thoughts and memories.

He claimed he hated every bit and detail of them of his father, but looking back… what did Krichevskoy ever do to deserve to be so hated? What did his _mother_ do?

Okay, so his father may have played a few nasty tricks on him involving food; "which is the better tasting" and all that… but should that really be enough to make his own _son_ hate him like this?

"Cheer up, Laharl…" Flonne began quietly, gently. "It's not like you at all… what happened to the loud and stubborn demon I used to know? Why do you look so sad…?"

Her questions were never answered, and ignored for the most part, as she knew they would be. She at least wanted him to know she cared at least a little. Etna told her to simply drop it and let him be. If he wanted to pout, let him pout, she'd said.

Laharl surely had no problem with her decision for once. It was one that benefited him.

He figured if he could be antisocial long enough and not speak, he would be able to figure this all out on his own. Or at least be able to sort through and maybe cease the memories and strange things he felt that seemed to crash through him like waves. Waves; always rough, never smooth.

Always hard on him.

By the time noon came, Etna was tired of hearing… well, nothing. They still walked, and he was behind them, still dazed it seemed.

She turned sharply on her heal, getting right up in his face, shocking him out of it almost instantly. "Laharl, what is _wrong_ with you!? Let's GO!" she snapped her fingers in his face rapidly, thinking she could get him to move like this. "Get with it! Demons get over their problems –whatever they are- quickly! Not wallow around all day to figure it out!"

Flonne merely wanted to slap her in the face and tell her to shut up, to put it bluntly. Surely Etna wasn't helping him by yelling in his face like that… But then again, neither would one of her speeches, and she knew this by now.

Laharl, on the other hand, glanced slightly up at the devil, wondering what could have possessed her to make such a racket. "Settle down, will ya…?" he mumbled at last, swaying her hand from his view. "I'm trying to think here." His voice was softer, but it still rang as a threat; enough to get her to quiet almost immediately. "I'm tired of hearin' you rant about how I'm not talking. Didn't you always say you hated hearing me complain anyway? So who are you one to talk? So YOU shut the hell up and leave me alone." He pointed out, the bitterness rising in his throat with a scratchy rasp to it as it usually had. "And anyway, I'm tired. I'm sick of walking; and I want to rest."

No one protested this. Etna was just satisfied she'd gotten him to speak, and Flonne was too busy trying to figure out what was running through the prince's min to get him to act so. What were his emotions? Were they really anger and annoyance? Or was he annoyed because they were there and he couldn't show his _real_ emotions in front of them? Either way, she was determined to get to the bottom of his sudden turn-around.

Laharl knew she knew what he was doing, and it didn't help him any. It made it worse. He wanted to scream, to blast them away with his aura so far away that they could never find their way back…far enough away so he could finally be alone; be free and do what he wanted.

Needed.

But at this point, what he wanted to do was something he'd refused to do so many times before in his life. So many times before… before his dad had, and after his mother had died. It was all the same to him now.

It was something that others wouldn't shrug off if it was really him. They wouldn't belief it, and poke fun at him…

It was something he dared not do before others. Something that just didn't seem like him.

But once that time came, that wouldn't stop him from doing it.


	3. Better Off Without You

enjoy /

* * *

**-Chapter Three- Better Off Without You**

Four days now. Four days straight. Flonne was starting to call it depression. Etna just complained about the silence. She simply refused to think that the Overlord could or even _would_ be depressed. He had all the power he could ever need – what reason did he have to be depressed?

But Laharl _was _slipping. And all three of them were noticing. More and more, as he came close to slipping completely, he would use the excuse of being tired; even if that time happened to be early morning or in the middle of the day. Any way he could get away. He always wanted to be alone.

Always away from others.

He was afraid, that if _it_ should happen, others would see. Yet no matter how many times he sealed himself away right before he thought he would break, and he finally WAS alone, nothing happened. He began to wonder if he should just let it happen around the other two and get it over with… since it seemed his mind wouldn't allow him to do it alone.

But which should it be? Should he let Etna… or Flonne see? Both? Neither is better, he wanted to believe this, but he also knew this apparently was not going to happen.

He figured Etna would probably just make it worse and criticise him; never let him live it down… but if Flonne were there… she wouldn't say anything bad… she would try to comfort him, try to make him feel better, maybe even give him some advice.

The very thought of it now made him feel weak, already on the verge. He stopped walking abruptly.

"I don't feel well." He said crisply, avoiding their sudden glances. Flonne was instantly concerned, and he saw it coming.

"Oh Laharl…" Flonne began gently, coming up to him, placing a hand on his forehead. "It almost feels like you have a fever… maybe you're sick…?"

He jerked away from her quickly, not wanting her to think too hard about it.

By now Etna realised Flonne was empowering him by doing this and cooperating whenever Laharl tried to pull things like this, and made such obvious excuses. And to be honest, she was tired of it. "Enough already! I'm tired of you two working behind my back like this! You—" she pointed to Laharl sharply. "Always make some dumb excuse to get away from us – me probably, because you—" she shot her hand to Flonne's direction. "Are always feeding his ideas and letting him get away with it!"

"Stop it Etna." Flonne said strongly, pulling in front of him. "Can't you see he IS sick? Look at his face! It's all red!"

Sure. It was red, but not because he had an actual fever. After this, he settled on hiding his face, and eventually just slid to the ground, veiling himself in his scarf.

"See!?" Flonne continued, using his collapse as an example.

"I said stop helping him! It's just some bad excuse!" Etna snapped, her eyes vicious and piercing. "Just look at him! You can always tell when a demon is lying – he never shows his face!!"

It was no lie now that Laharl was sure it would be Flonne he would allow to see. But he feared that as of right now… he may be forced to let them both see.

"There can be other reasons for that! If he's sick—which he _is_, you could be giving him a headache with all your yelling!" she rambled on for a moment with a list of other reasons for him to hide.

Laharl himself found it the perfect time to just let himself slip. If he could stay curled up like this, surely he could keep his eyes hidden long enough for them to—

Etna snatched him up by the arm and jerked him to his feet without warning. "There! You're standing now! Show Flonne you're perfectly fine! AND NO MORE EXCUSES!!" she roared, throwing him in the concerned angel's direction.

He let himself fall limply into her protective arms. And at last, Flonne realised it wasn't sickness that caused him to hide his face at all. Almost with a jolt, she hugged him tight, and turned him away from her in her arms.

To say in the least, this little gesture enraged Etna.

"You little bitch!" she hissed. "How DARE you act like he's some kind of kid! Like you're his mother or something— always protecting him!

That was it. Laharl buried his face in Flonne's flat bosom and clutched to her pitifully, shaking away the memories of his mother that flooded his mind like the tears that flooded his eyes. Flonne was instantly on-guard from his reaction to the Devil's words.

"Etna, stop it now…" she pleaded lightly, tightening her grip on him as if he were some kind of doll the other was threatening to take. "If you don't… then go away!"

There was a small stifled sound from Flonne's direction and Etna nearly lost it. She slammed her foot down and crossed her arms over her chest hotly. "Oh, now you're gonna try THAT trick demon?! I don't think so!" she roared with fury. "If you have to stoop THAT low for an excuse – I won't have it! I'm not falling for it! COWARD!"

At this she stormed off.

The moment she was far from sight and Flonne said to him she was gone; Laharl sank to his knees, nearly dragging her with him. So this is what it felt like to cry. What it felt like to be so vulnerable and weak; he couldn't stand even if he tried his very hardest… and his slight chest was being ravaged by stifled sobs caught behind his teeth.

He'd finally let it happen, finally let himself slip, and it was okay at first… till he realised Flonne was still there beside him. He thought this could have been a bad thing.

"Laharl…!" she exclaimed softly, coming down to her knees to meet him, taking him by the shoulders, attempting him to look her in the face. He had his head down; hair draped over his face to hide it seemed, from her. "Laharl…?"

He instinctively wanted to push her away and tell her to leave him alone, but pulling the scarf up closer to his chest protectively was enough at this time. But his mouth wouldn't work the way his mind commanded it to, and his tongue was betrayed by his emotions. "That Etna—" He managed. "She said… she…"

"She said a lot of things, Laharl… a lot of bad things… but it's okay, if you're still not feeling well—"

"I'm not sick…!" he tried to exclaim, but instead it sounded more like a strangled confession. "This," he gestured almost violently to his streaming eyes. "is what I've been trying to hide... whenever I felt like—" it was as if he couldn't form the word and 'I' in the same sentence. He swallowed hard for hesitation. "Every time I felt like… crying, I would make an excuse so I could get away…!" he sounded near desperate and rubbed his eyes impatiently.

Flonne stopped him by taking his wrist in her hand gently, and clasped her other over his. "Look at me, Laharl… if not, then just listen…" she waited for a moment, knowing somehow, he would cooperate and look at her straight in the eye, however reluctant it may be.

He did.

"It's okay to cry, really it is… you're supposed to when you're sad…not hide it."

Another of her speeches. But this one… instead of agitating him as it usually would, seemed to calm him down, non-the-less. He liked it for a change, and stared her in the eyes, thankful it was sapphire he saw, and not red.

If it were ever red, he'd be dead now; the owner of those eyes would be so disappointed.

"Now tell me… why are you so sad…? I'll listen to your story…"

The simple question made it feel to him as if someone had tied a weight down on him, and he nearly felt worse. He bit his trembling lip and glanced down.

Her words meant so much, however small they may have been, and she knew this. No one had ever cared for his situation… no one. And now, some Angel he'd convinced himself he hated was asking? I mean, really concerned, really wanted to know… to help if she could.

He held his breath, attempting to cease the violent sobs that tore at his throat and yet still found no relief.

"No… don't _hold _your breath, Laharl… let me help you." she stroked his arm lightly, coming to face him from the front. "Even, deep breaths…"

He at least attempted at what he was told, but in the process was almost sure he'd succeeded, but a stray sob caught back in his throat, producing a hiccupping sound. It made him more frustrated, and he ended up as he started.

Flonne, now convinced she should just let him cry it out, did, and let him be until he was ready on his own, still by his side of course.

He'd never cried once in his life. So thousands of years' stress and build-up could make anyone cry. And in that much time… there sure were a lot of things to cry about.

She couldn't even begin to imagine.

Wait.

What was he thinking? He couldn't allow himself to go all sentimental now…

If it weren't for Etna in the first place… if it weren't fro Flonne… he seemed to mentally pinch himself with these thoughts until his legs regained their strength, free from any sort of trembling. He eased himself up… a burning look in his drying eyes.

He didn't need anyone.

He only felt this way because others caused him to. _They__ were the problem… __They__ were to blame…_

He made up his mind almost abruptly and glared down at Flonne, his composure fully regained. "No. I don't need you." he said calmly. _Too calmly; _Anger calm. "I don't need any of you. No one."

"Ah… Laharl—where is this coming from…?" she fussed, looking up at him shortly, for she had stayed down when he went up.

By now, Etna was back with a small morsel to eat, and it only spiked his rage. "What the hell do YOU want?"

"Oh, nothing. This is just one fight I'd LOVE to sit and watch."

"Shut the hell up! This is YOUR fault!!" he rasped. In a split second he seemed to change his mind and spun around sharply to face the now standing Flonne. "No, it's YOUR fault!! If it weren't for your stupid speeches all the time that always reminded me of— SEE!?"

"So which is it?" Etna rumbled, annoyed. "Who are you blaming; both of us now?"

"_Yes!" _He stamped his foot and clenched his fists, elbows locking at his sides, his blackish-purple aura making a quick swirl around him.

"Well. That's too bad." Etna snapped, giving him a deathly specific glare that said many things. She glanced down at Flonne from her position slyly. "Let's go, Flonne."

"But— where are we going…?" she insisted as her wrist was captured, and glanced back at Laharl as she was dragged away. "I think Laharl—"

"Laharl doesn't care where we go." She shot her eyes back at him just for a moment to see if he'd caught on yet. Trouble was, he didn't exactly care. Yet.

Etna, still looking back at him, spoke to Flonne loudly, "He won't last three days without us." She declared. "Just watch."

"WHAT!!" he roared, his glare chasing them as they walked. "You're _leaving me!?" _

Etna stopped short, seeming to laugh wickedly. "I thought you wanted us gone, dear prince…?" she mocked. "Looks like you didn't even last the few seconds while were walking away… pathetic."

"Shut the hell up!!" she demanded again. "I DO want you gone! Never come back again! I'd be better off without you anyway!!"

And then they were gone, never giving a second glance back.


	4. Atsu

* * *

**-Chapter Four- Atsu**

Another three days now. It had been three days without Flonne or Etna. But the crying didn't stop.

He found the moment they were out of sight the day they'd left, he felt so much worse… like I was all his fault for all Etna had said… HIS fault he thought he'd never see them again.

And what made him cry again, was the fact that this was true.

If he thought those fights he'd started were stressful, he had another thing coming.

He began to think more and more of his mother, his father… and it tore him in half. The amount of self-inflicted pain was greater, and he found that his own legs at one point weren't strong enough to support what little weight he was, for they trembled so fiercely. It made him fell vulnerable, and he hated it.

Now, when I say 'self inflicted', I mean not that he was cutting… or anything like that. No, I mean that he was so induced to continuously reminisce in the memories he had of his… 'Childhood' when his mother was still alive, that he became unsure of himself; more emotional.

Sure, at point, somewhere around the second day, he had maybe considered that what he did was so wrong… that he needed to be punished for it.

And yet he did nothing about it.

Lately, however, he'd been camping outside of town for two main reasons, one, he didn't want to be seen or… heard in such a condition, and two… he never knew just when the next fit may strike him. Plus, all the money he had to deal with was the Hell he stole from Etna's Prinny he'd thrown out.

That certainly was not a lot.

But this night was different. An old devil, by the simple name of Atsu had found him roaming the streets, scouring for something cheap enough to buy for a decent snack or something.

A snack was all he could afford now, without spending the Hell in one shot. And real amount of food was too much for that of which he'd taken from a mere Prinny.

Atsu had offered him a place to stay for a few nights.

He'd never seen such kindness from a devil—not to him, anyway. Most of the time, they were just after the bounty on his head… but this woman was different. She was soft-spoken, and yet still had this way of words…

Hell, he figured if she were younger, Vyers should meet her. They'd be perfect.

Laharl had agreed to stay with her for at the most, three days in any case, this day being the first. He wondered, since he'd been trying to _avoid _people in the first place, if this was such a wise decision.

Well… he was low on money…

He wanted to avoid people mainly because of the fact that some of his little fits came a bit randomly, and he never knew just HOW exactly they would drive him. Some were violent, where he destroyed almost anything in his way (which normally consisted of fallen rocks or boulders) or others he found that he couldn't stop himself from just flat-out crying even if his life (which at one point, he swore it did) depended on it.

Etna was right. Not only was he a wreck, but at times he caught himself making comments, supposedly directed to them, and realised a bit too late that they weren't there. This was sometimes the trigger to his violent breakdowns.

To put it all bluntly, he was alone, sad and afraid. Being alone wasn't something he was used to. There was always someone there with him… and now that it seemed to have become some kind of _need_ for someone, he found it only natural to seek acceptance, and help form others.

Acceptance never came easy. And yet, somehow… with this devil, Atsu, he got both….

But to put thing back to where they should be and current, she'd given him a larger amount of Hell to go buy himself a decent meal.

He didn't buy anything he wanted right away, for he felt only the slightest bit of guilt for taking the old woman's Hell.

But, as anyone might have guessed for him, hunger drove him to buy the largest, cheap fruit he could find.

…which still only left him with 50H.

The fruit was very strange; it looked like an eggplant, in a way… but it was lighter in colour, and more rounded, more plum. Almost… peach-shaped, and it was not a vegetable.

From the moment he sank his fanged teeth into the fruit's fleshy sweetness, he was instantly calmed, free of any urge to yell or cry. While he ate, it gave him the warmest feeling… like when his mother used to hold him in her arms and rock him to sleep at night when…

This memory did not disturb or make him feel anything but a quiet realisation, as he held the fruit, almost amazed at what it was doing to him. Surely, if he had not been eating this thing… and he'd thought of this old feeling otherwise, he knew there would be some kind of reaction. Tears, violence?

Neither, now that he had this astonishing fruit.

After about the third or fourth bite, he gazed up at the owner of the outside stand-market. "Hey… waddya call this thing…?" he asked lightly, his eyes loosing the sharp intensity they'd held for so long, his face relaxing.

The demon smiled, or rather smirked for a moment, glancing down at him from behind his glasses. "Why… it's a Kokoro Kaori fruit."

"Kokoro…Kaori…?" Laharl repeated slowly, questioningly.

"Yes, it's famously known her for its power."

"It has a power? A fruit?" after what he'd just experienced, or rather, NOT experienced, he had no trouble believing this.

"You see, it has the power to calm and relax the person who eats it. Tell me, how do you feel right now?"

"…warm. At peace with myself."

"Do you like the way it makes you feel?"

"Mh-hm…" Laharl nodded, taking another small bite, not realising at first he'd just been asked virtually the same question twice. He savoured the sweet, gentle taste that made him feel so at ease… as if he were adrift in the mist of the sea… atop the soft mist of the clouds so towering above them. Mist… a warm, soft, gentle mist…

"That's why they can be so pricey, and so hard to find at times. Many people like that nirvana feeling you obtain while eating one. " The keeper said, scanning him quickly without his notice. "I can see you're enjoying it quite a bit. I will make a deal with you."

"Wha…?" he mumbled lazily, mouth still pressed against the fruit, in the middle of a bite.

"I have something for you." He held out a pale grey-blue flower after a moment of rummaging around behind the counter. "They call it a Harusame Flower, the flower of the Kaori fruit. For just 50H, I will give it to you as discounted and it is yours to take." NOW he was starting to sound like a salesman.

"What would I want with some stupid flower?" Laharl nearly snapped. His tone was as it usually was, and he had a surprised-annoyed look in his eyes. By now, he'd finished the fruit, and it was obvious that the effect was wearing off, and hated the idea of ever carrying another flower, whether it be white, or close to it.

He wished he had another fruit.

"Ah, please excuse my being inspecific. The Harusame Flower comes from the Kaori plant, and has the same power. It calms you down if you are angry, gives you that feeling of nirvana, and even…" he leaned over the counter and seemed to whisper in Laharl's ear as if he said this not-to-often. "Helps ease your emotions if you're crying."

This just about made him fall over, and he spun sharply to face the keeper, digging in his pockets for the remaining Hell. Before he had all of it out, he said quickly, "Deal."

"Ah, that's my boy…" the man crooned, a crooked smirk on his face, handing overt the flower in exchange for the Hell. "And you are very blessed, my friend… you see, the Harusame Flower is special, also named so because it seems to feed itself, and does not easily wilt. Even if it should, the power does not fade."

To say in the least, Laharl was very grateful and pleased with himself as he walked away from the stand, leaving the greedy man behind him to count his Hell.

He walked fitfully back to Atsu's house.

"Ah! My…!" Atsu exclaimed softly and bustled up to Laharl as he stumbled in. she greeted him sincerely, and caressed the young flower in her hands, holding it to her face. "A Harusame Flower…! How wonderful…" she gazed down at Laharl slightly then. "Did you spend the money I gave you?"

He glanced down quickly, afraid for a moment. "Yes… I did."

"Good boy," she ruffed up his hair, nearly flattening his backward forelocks, smiling cheerfully. "What else did you buy?"

"A Kokoro Kaori fruit," He chimed, a bright look in his eyes, trying his best to look cheerful as she, knowing she was pleased with him and not angry for using up all the money given to him in one shot. He certainly did not want her upset with him – he needed a place to sty. He was downright sick of camping out; alone or not.

"Ah…" she sighed sweetly, as if the one 'word' could have said it all.

"It made me feel… warm. Safe." He answered as if the sigh had been a question such as what the keeper had asked twice.

"Is that why you bought the flower too?"

"…yeah." He now wondered, a little late, whether it was right for him to be entrusting his unstable emotions with an amaranth.

"You know… my sister's name was Kaori. She was very kind, and very old." Atsu handed him the flower back, looking down at the small boy demon prince with sad, aged eyes. "They named that blessed flower after her, you know; because of the way she made others feel, whether they were demon, devil, or human– and she herself was human, I'll have you know-" she looked down again at him, roughing his hair once more as if for comfort, with a small, heartbreaking smile.

"Do you… miss her…?" Laharl mused softly, getting the point. The Harusame wasn't working for him as it should be, he thought, for a lump rose in his already tight throat. He thought of his mother, the night her…

He could almost feel the cold breeze again at his skin from that frozen waste-land the Prinnies go to… He could almost see the moon… the bright stars above him from that night…

They'd been so bright…

"Of course I miss her, Laharl… she was very dear to me, a blessed person, just like that flower you hold." Atsu whispered, as if shocked he would ask something as this.

And then she realised why.

He was looking for answers.

"What about you, Laharl? I can tell you are thinking of someone special… someone you cared very much for."

At the word 'cared' he gritted his teeth, sniffing; attempting to keep is tears down. Never had he been in such an unlucky person when it came to this. Whenever he tried not to cry, he cried. Whenever he tried to cry, he simply couldn't.

He bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, and the sharp pain that followed not only stung his lip, but his eyes with welling tears.

Unlucky, two-fold.

He glanced away, the slightest movement f his eyes causing the tears to fall, gripping his scarf that instinctively wrapped closer to him.

"Oh, Laharl…" Atsu purred, lifting him off his feet in one movement. "Come here…" she was much bigger than he, and was a plump old woman, whom he only came up to about her mid to. She carried him to the other room, placing him down on a tower of cushions which he'd constructed himself. He allowed himself to be moved, letting his head down and cried freely, at last knowing he would get no criticism.

Atsu seemed to be the only one he could trust now.

She brushed the stray hair from his face, letting herself down beside him. She gave him a patient look. "Don't be afraid of it, just cry if you need to." She stoked the fallen tear from his face and he simply let her. "If you're uncomfortable with it…" she pointed to the flower he held near limply in his trembling hands. "Why not give that a try…?"

He pulled it to his face, and took a moment to examine every other detail the petals held, getting it closer to his face. In the end he just gave up and held it to his nose – the flower which was virtually as big as his hands put together took over most of his face.

He felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing and throat became less tense. Stray, very slight sobs still occasionally catching in his chest, he glanced up at her, his watery eyes pleading she would understand what he would say.

And maybe help him sort it out.

"Atsu… Please hear me out. I was raised in a—" his throat closed in over his words and he swallowed, forcing himself to continue. However much of a lie it may have been. "A family where it was always wring to cry… I was taught 'demons don't feel sympathy' was the number one rule and thing to remember. If I was ever caught…" he dropped his gaze, knowing he could never stop himself from feeling as terrible as he did now for saying this, but it was his own belief of how he should have been treated. It was how he wanted to be seen as – as a demon that knew no sympathy, and saw it as weak. "My father would beat me… and tell me to never let it happen again… until I stopped… said that it was always to protect me in the end."

_Protect you? _She wanted to blurt. If someone is _beating you _to teach you a lesson of _protection_, there was obviously something wrong there. At this point, she caught on to what he was doing. Not only was his story too obvious, it was also clear that he hadn't exactly thought it over very rationally. Before interrupting, she decided t play along in her own little way for a while.

"From what?" she asked seriously, eyes content on his.

"Anything! He said if I cried, I wasn't strong and—"

No… any plan she had on waiting was gone now. Shot down like a cannon. "Now look here, young Laharl." She began a bit more sternly that she had intended. She lowered her voice and let her eyes settle. She lifted his chin and had him face her, meet her square in the eyes. "Strength is not how physically strong you are, and it certainly does not mean that if you cry, you are emotionally weak either. No, think of it the other way. If your heart knows when to cry… then you are strong."

"My… heart…?" he repeated. He felt his eyes well again. He hated that word.

And soon, in his own way, he would have to add another reason soon enough.

"I don't understand…"

"I know it may be a hard thing to understand now… but please, relax, dear Laharl… think of this; if Demons or Devils could not feel sympathy, do you think you'd be sitting here with me?"

"No…" he sniffed lightly, eyes feeling heavy.

"Because you were taught not to cry… does that mean you were taught not to love also?"

If her were to include it in his story… and not say it was Flonne… "No," he concluded. "No I wasn't. They didn't want me to love either."

"There, see now?" she pulled him close, into a tight embrace. "Sadness is only possible because of love."

This struck him like a wave. Had that not been almost EXACTLY what Flonne had once said? Had he kicked her out and told her to leave for something she was right about all along…?

"You know… if I hadn't have _loved _my sister in the first place, I could never be sad for her departure." She smiled at him, knowing he was beginning to catch on.

"Your heart controls your emotions, empathically speaking. If it allows you to cry at times of need or grief, and love when it is true, then _that_ is strength."

Laharl glanced down at his near buried hands. "My heart is… my strength…?"

Atsu nodded, and held her hands to him. "Lend me your hand." When he did, she clasped it gently, and pressed it against her chest. "Do you feel that?"

He paused for a moment, glancing around as if the answer was floating around in the air somewhere around him. "That beating?"

"Yes,"

"I do…"

"Do you feel how faint it grows?"

"I…do…" he didn't like where this was going. As much as he would have hated to admit it, if she was going to tell him she was going to die, he wouldn't have been able to handle it very easily. If she had just told him the heart was a person's strength… if it was beating so slightly, wouldn't that mean…?  
"It beats more faintly because I am near my end, and it is so full of love. You see, Laharl… you heart is like… your _life gauge_. "

He hoped so dearly she didn't mean…

"When I die, Laharl, it will not be due from any ailment, no, I assure you; it is just because my heart was so full, it just simply couldn't handle any more love than it already carried."

He shook his head defiantly and latched to her arm, feeling like a child. "Please don't leave…" he buried his face in her side and seemed to tense up greatly again. "Not yet…"

Atsu laughed heartily, her smile nearly eating her entire face, pulling him close, telling him it was all merely a speech to help him understand. "You see… your heart also controls fear. You are only weak if your heart is weak, and you become angry."

At last he fully understood what she meant. And now he wished she would have said this to begin with, in replacement for scaring him like that. "I see…" he nodded, loosening his grip on her. "I understand now."

"Good now. And I'm gland that beautiful young flower works for you… I hope you keep it close to your heart." She chimed, hauling herself up after a moment's hesitation. Even to him, it looked hard and painful. "Mah, in any case, dinner will be ready some time this evening, so until then, go out and play or make yourself at home."

At last someone treated him like a child. It was as if he craved this feeling… it was as if he knew he was safe in the protection, rather than being forced to fend for himself.

He jumped down from his nest of cushions, feeling quite refreshed. Maybe it was from relieving his hunger… or maybe because he finally realised _his_ side of his story was told, and sorted out like he wanted it to be.

He smiled to himself as he watched her amble back in to the kitchen, and then began outside.

Atsu's house was simple; rectangle based, with most small bushes growing apart and away from it, but near the kitchen window, stood a mid-sized bush-like tree which peeked just above the flat roof of the house beside a fairly large sized cluster of boxes.

A quick idea flashed through his mind, and he smiled again, taking up a larger box from the collection. Cleaning this would be a snap, compared to his room when he was younger.

In moments he had all the old boxes separated and categorised in three parts; junk, valuable or to keep, and things he was unsure she wanted or not. Occasionally, he would take inside a suspicious-looking trinket that may or not have been charitable to her, and after a while realised that if it were that special, it wouldn't be in this monster of a pile.

For some odd reason, he thought stacking up all the junk boxes was a good idea, and by the time he'd reached the window of the house, he knew then a little delayed it wasn't one of his brighter ideas.

Laharl had bright ideas that actually worked?

Oh, scary…

They towered above him by well over 15 boxes, and when Atsu could no longer see from her window that lay just before her behind the sink, she heard a mighty crash.

In a panicked rush, she scurried outside, searching for the cause. Dust flew in all directions just above the ground, and there was no sight of Laharl.

Last time she saw these boxes laying in such a spread, it had been a thief looking for things to steal and sell.

"Who's there? Go on, shoo! There's nothing in there for you anymore! Your friends took all of it last time with him!"

There was a small child-like moan and she glanced down, fearing it wasn't a thief, and she jolted, pulling away a stray piece of cloth from the settling dust. "Laharl…?" she called then, waiting for another noise to penetrate from somewhere. "Laharl, where are you?"

Another muffled mummer came from nowhere it seemed, and she glanced down in time to see a few of the small boxes at the untidy bottom shudder. Some of the miniscule ones fell away and he shook beneath them, his face becoming only just visible. He wanted to burst out of them, exploding with annoyance. It showed all over his scraped face.

Atsu gasped and knelt, tearing away any box she could, shocked it really was him beneath all this mess. After more where cleared away and he could feel his arms again, she allowed him to just burn them off of him with his aura. By the time he stood again, there were only two of those murderous boxes that survived his fire.

"Laharl…!" she complained, a flustered look crossing her face. "What were you doing? You could have been squished flat!"

He glanced down, feeling his face flush. "I was trying to clean it for you," he answered modestly.

"Well… I suppose you've learned your lesson, now haven't you…?" she teased, messing up his hair.

"Yeah," he mumbled dryly, avoiding her gaze.

How embarrassing.

And yet… another sense took over almost abruptly…

"Well… anyway, thank you so much for what you've done! I've been meaning to clean this all up for ages… dinner isn't quite ready yet, so go on and enjoy yourself… _without _getting caught under something this time, please…?"

He just nodded, feeling something strange.

A feeling of… foreboding.


	5. Dream the Not so Peaceful Night Away

**-Chapter five- Dream the Not-so-Peaceful Night Away**

By the time Laharl had finished with the remaining boxes and organising them, it was nearly 5pm and yet he was already beyond tired.

Still, Atsu had said she was preparing something special for dinner and it would take a while longer.

He'd been wandering around aimlessly until he heard a distinctive chime that was obviously intended for him to respond to.

In moments he was standing in the door, hand against the wooden frame, panting heavily from running the great distance he did – which was quite a ways, for he'd been such a long way away. Atsu gave him a welcoming smile and took him by the back and seemed to lead him inside.

"Come now, it's ready, Laharl!" she said cheerfully, her smile widening. "See what I've made for you,"

"It does smell good…" he confessed, glancing around as if to see the scent itself. It was very aromatic… and it made him calm. Similar to… "A Harusame Flower…?"

"Yes," she said softly, taking a warm dish off of the high counter and lowered it down so that he may see. It was a strange dish, freckled with Harusame Flower petals here and there, and which, no doubt from the heat and whatever else she'd added, had turned a slight duller or more grey while other pieces appeared a healthy green. It looked like these things were placed on a cake of some sort… but otherwise it looked beautiful; not edible. "It's my specialty, special because I only make it or people I hood dear to my heart."

_Heart…_ he thought. _Again with the heart…_ he pulled his hand up to his chest to see if it was still beating. She had told him it meant he was still alive, still able to love.

"Your heart is always beating, Laharl. Even when you are gone, the heart of your soul will continue to race, continue to love."

He couldn't help but let his eyes settle. A warm feeling fell over him, and he felt welcome, safe, and above all, accepted. He loved her poetic way of speaking – it always made him feel like this. It was as if her voice could carry over and embrace him like her very arms.

He wondered if some of this sensation came from the scent of the Harusame Flower that wafted through the warm, misty air.

He refused to think that was all it was.

"Are you ready, Laharl?"

"Hunh…?"

"For dinner, of course! C'mon, I made plenty for the both of us!"

Dinner had been finished for over an hour now, and Laharl, to put it bluntly, was exhausted, ready to collapse, and Atsu saw it.

"Come now, Laharl…" it seemed to be her famous phrase. She gestured for him to make his way to the mound of cushions he used to sleep on. She fluffed up a stray pillow and placed it at the top as he came near, slowly, for he was hardly able to keep himself up now.

He staggered toward her, rubbing his eye wearily, nearly tripping over his own feet for a moment and at the last second, simply let him fall into her ready arms. She lifted him swiftly up and let him down in the centre of the nest gently.

Neither of them knew just why exactly he chose to create this strange collection rather than choosing a futon or mere comforter to sleep on. But, in any case, he said it was comfortable, and easy to hide in. she had no objections to his choice and even confessed to the fact that she'd done it too when she was younger.

He'd basically fallen asleep the moment he felt the warm comforting soft of the pillows beneath his face.

Sleep had come easy, of course… and dreams came as so, two-fold. For some time and hours after he'd been asleep, Atsu noticed him shifting and turning, occasionally making a small stifled sound. She was never really sure what he was dreaming about.

A moment or so later, she heard a small strangled noise from the room he was in, curious, she ambled in to check on him, seeing if he was awake or not. She found him leaned slightly over the top, arm out as if he had previously reached out for something or…

"What do you need, Laharl?" she asked, thinking he was awake. He was not, but she saw his face was red and tense. Puzzled, she watched him for a moment.

"…mother…" was the single, sombre word he muttered, as he stretched his hand out as if to touch… as if to catch…

Atsu wondered what he could possibly be dreaming, wished she knew the things that must be racing through his mind as he slept. She knew that whatever it was, it was about his mother, of course… but what she could never know, was that again and again, his mind put him through that same night… that cold night.

Where the stars shone so brightly… where the moon cried down its tears of red upon his own tear stained face… where the colours seemed to bleed and spread together across the sky…

Where he would have to let go of his mother again.

In this terrible dream, he was seeing his mother as the beloved Red Prinny ascend into the cold night skies … seeing his mother's soul being lifted from the awful demonic shape it had assumed for the long time that it was…

For the long time he was with her and didn't know it.

But what would Etna have said if tried to stop his mother from leaving once he found out? 'Are you going soft on me, Demon Prince?' she would ask. And at this point and time, he would have stood in her face and shouted, 'yes! YES I am!'

Tears slipped down his sleeping face and he absently tensed, pulling the scarf in closer to him.

He wanted his mother back. He wanted to see her smiling face… wanted to let her take him in her arms one last time… To tell him she loved her son… Tell him she cared for him…

So he could tell her he loved her back, and just as much.

...If not, more.

And he wanted to tell her he missed her.

Atsu sighed mournfully and stroked his tearstained face gently with the back of her hand, a soft look in her deep violet eyes. It would be a long night for Laharl.

She knew it all too well.

* * *

Angst haters, feel free to flame ;)


	6. Such a Wonderful Day

hey... not much to say this time.

* * *

-Chapter Six- Such a Wonderful Day

He woke shortly after the fourth time that night he had that torturous dream. They say you dream about seven times in a night whether you remember them or not. He remembered all of them.

Laharl had the same departing dream-vision of his mother four times… 4+37. One was about his father… the snack he teased him with now poison, and Laharl, the child he was then, knew it, and chased him down from afar as if the room wasn't already big enough.

Now it had to be a never-ending void until it was too late and Krichevskoy lay dead on the floor.

Another was about Jennifer, which he dared not think too hard about again… and the last one, still fresh in his mind, burned there as he knew it would always be, for years to come… was of Flonne and Etna.

_Flonne, he recalled, was calling out to him, arms outstretched. _

_He had a terrible urge to go to her quickly, as if her life had depended on it… but then, before he could clearly comprehend it all, Etna had appeared in front of her._

_Again. Why did it always feel like he was running on moving planks? The scarf that would have normally allowed him to fly was stripped form him by an unknown face earlier in the dream, and so now, he had no way of getting to her. _

_He knew Etna's appearance now couldn't have been a good thing. To him, somehow in this dream, and perhaps how he truly felt, she meant grief to him. _

_He was right._

_In one clean swipe of her arm, her back turned to him, blood sprayed from the sides he could not see, and Flonne screamed. He cried out to her, making one last ditch-effort to get to her and jumped. Their hands nearly met…_

_A light engulfed him, all else and time seemed to slow or stop… Etna was gone… and he stood, tense, ridged, as the light faded, his arm up protectively above his head… the other arm down, fingers clenched over something warm… glowing… calm. _

_In his hands now, seeing it, he found a soft, glowing white Lilly. _

_He knew this wasn't right, how anything had happened… but it still sacred him, and he wished desperately to alter the scenes around him._

Lucid dreaming. Fun.

He woke with a slight start, checking his hands over and over obsessedly for the dreaded flower and found nothing but the Harusame laying a ways below him. He could have bet money he knocked it away before he fell asleep some how, and that that was the reason his dreams were so unpleasant.

Atsu nearly rushed into the room in a sombre panic when he hiccupped. Apparently, she'd mistaken it for a sob.

Laharl, realising this, if it were his usual self, would have indeed said 'big mistake' and proceeded to give her a deadly glare… but no such look could he ever manage if it were to Atsu. He just simply couldn't do it. She was the first one to actually care for him the way he needed to be cared for.

Instead, he flashed a smile, sitting more upright in his now strangely flattening mountain of cushions. "Good morning, Atsu-san." He said brightly, shaking away the now pounding memories and images of his dreams. It was as if seeing her made them race back, causing his head to spin.

His face never showed this.

Atsu looked shocked and amazed all the same for a moment, then returned the gentle smile. "Good morning…!" she came closer to him, helping him down from the nest of comforters and things. Anyone could tell he loved this kind of pampering and attention with such tenderness and care. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

If he hadn't stopped himself and thought a second more about his words, he would have said 'me too', but ruled this as rude. Instead, he nodded quickly.

"Well, you slept till noon; I would imagine you're quite hungry!" she exclaimed cheerfully. It hadn't been until then that he noticed the sun blazing so intensely out the nearby window. Atsu placed a counted amount of Hell in his hands, patting his back lightly as he stood. "Go on now; buy yourself something good for bre-- lunch."

He nodded again, but then thought of something quickly before he left. "Hey, Atsu…?" he began softly, glancing innocently up at her.

"Yes?"

"…why do you give me so much money all the time?"

"Oh; simple, dear childe… you see, I am old… and I need it not anymore." She gave him a gentle smile that could have made him cry. "So I want to have it used for something better; by someone who needs it."

"You mean… " he could not and would not bring himself to say it.

"Yes. I mean, that once I die, of course I will have no use for it anymore. And so, I give more to you, seeing as you someone who I hold dear and indeed, someone who needs it more than I certainly do. Laharl…" she stooped to face him directly on, then, and knelt before him. "I do not need material things… I do not have that much more time left to live, you see, so I would not want to waste perfectly good Hell on something I could never want or use."

He had a feeling today she was in more in a mood to talk for it took her so long just to say this. But in any case he understood what she'd meant at once, and ended up shaking his head in disbelief.

She gave him another heart-breaking smile and patted his shoulder again, sending him on his way. "Go on now, don't fret; I'll be here when you come back."

It wasn't until that moment of catching the scent of the stands outside that he realised just how hungry he really was; his stomach nearly roared at him.

"And be good, you here? No more box-piling… it wouldn't be good if you ended up passing on before I did," she joked, and he couldn't help but smile for her to bring up the little box incident again. "Stay out as long as you'd like."

By now, evening settling down, Laharl had satisfied his hunger a few times over with a nice amount of Hell left over. Now, he simply explored around town looking for something to do under the scintillating orange-red skies.

Unfortunately, something found him instead.

He stood atop a small dirty red knoll looking down the crooked street of outside market-stands that lined the dimming houses, scanning the area as if it belonged to him. He wanted it to, of course, but… what would that mean for the civilians here? They'd probably hate that.

…after tonight, he'd have no idea how much he was correct about this.

He caught glance of two familiar figures, and before he had a chance to comprehend or even react, the red hair and eyed face turned and looked straight up at him.

Crap.

It was Etna and Flonne, both looking directly at him, each with a deadly smirk. In moments Etna had stepped forward in his direction, her eyes flashing something he could recognize from a mile away; mockery. "what'sa matter, kid? Ya lost?" she crooned devilishly.

His fists tightened and he ground his teeth, fighting back the urge to begin any kind of verbal assault or bear fang at her. It was one hell of a task, to say in the least, and he had made a promise so to speak, to Atsu, that he would not cause any trouble in town. Seeing as it was Atsu, he kept to that promise, and held his ground for the time being.

It was only a matter of how much he could take of whatever they threw at him.

For five long minutes, he endured Etna's ranting off at him, as she blasted off numerous, terrible remarks to and about him. He bit his lip, forcing back his harsh comebacks and such.

"Aw, what's wrong? Why aren't you sayin' anything?" she snapped, annoyed with his silence. "…Red Prinny got your tongue?" she ended, chanting cruelly.

Now he had enough. "SHUT UP!!" he roared, stamping a foot down, aura making a quick flurry around him. "You dun have ANY kind of right to say ANYTHING about her, you bitch!!"

Beside her, Flonne giggled and he jerked back at this. So… Etna had gotten her on her side too now?

Looks like he had no protection.

"Laharl, haven't you ever heard of 'freedom of speech'?" she added, her voice cold, so unlike the Flonne he knew.

"You! That goes for you too!" he screamed at her. A few people had stopped beside the streets and made a small crowd to watch. Others, from a short distance, watched silently, intently. Oddly, and most inconvenient as it was, he felt his face grow hot and he gritted his teeth, no longer afraid to bear fang.

"Aww… you're blushing, Laharl…" Flonne murmured, a hand girlishly over her curved lips.

"I hope for your sake you don't start crying again." Etna said coolly, but loud enough for the budding pack behind her could hear as well. Her face was slightly turned so she could ensure this.

She had the prince wondering if it was already too late; he knew what she would try next.

"We wouldn't want to see you go cryin' to your mommy if— oops." She sneered, a smirk creeping across her face at the end of her words. Her sharp fangs were clearly visible under her devious simper. "Guess I forgot she was already dead." at this, a roar of understanding and amusement rose behind her from the crowd.

"Mmm…" Flonne licked her lips, rubbing her stomach. "I hope those biscuits were yummy…"

For a moment, Etna was unsure of what she meant exactly, but when she caught on, she exploded with laughter, and they both chimed; "she bit the biscuit!"

"No-no... wait; that wasn't her. And it wasn't a biscuit; it was… a Dumpling of the Damned!"

"Oh, so true on the damned part; Krichevskoy WAS indeed a fool to the end." Though it pained her to say such a cruel thing about her former master, Etna thought it only necessary if it meant getting to tease Laharl like this in front of so many other people. Most of which, who had not liked the king, added to the noise and howled with laughter and agreement. It was almost too obvious this town was against him.

And his son.

"Pushin' up daisies-" Flonne picked up again.

"Takin' the dirt nap-"

"Kicked the bucket-"

For a time the two went back and fourth with stupid puns and saying such as these to represent death. A few others were thrown in by random demons off the street.

Including the man who'd sold him not only his breakfast this morning, but also the Kokoro Kaori fruit and flower.

This was too much for him. "Stop it…" Laharl muttered weakly, his face downcast.

Amidst the rioting laughter the two girls were in, Etna stopped abruptly and straightened to glare at him. "Oh, did you say something?"

"Did the Red Prinny finally let go?" Flonne added.

He shook his head. Not to say 'no', more of like a 'why?'

"Why…?" he began in a small, insecure voice.

"What?" Etna teased, pulling a hand forward to her ear. "I don't think I caught that."

"WHY!?" he stormed, pound a foot to the ground, throwing his arms down in a violent gesture. "Why are you doing this to me!?"

"Uh... lemme think," Etna snapped shortly, eyes flashing a deadly glare. "You're a low-life bastard who throws around my Prinnies like they're trash, even the Red one who you knew was—"

"Shut your damn mouth!!"

At this she smirked and rolled her eyes, plowing on. "y'know, I think I have every right to do this to you. Are we making you uncomfortable? _Good, _you little—"

Flonne jabbed her in the arm to get her attention and she stopped almost abruptly.

Laharl had his head down, teeth and hands clenched. He trembled softly. To them, it looked like he was ready to blow the whole town apart.

From his side of things… not so much. "Just leave…" he muttered slowly through his bared teeth.

"I'm sorry, what now?" this joke was getting old.

"I said GET OUT!!"

"Fine, fine…" Etna laughed, making sarcastic surrendering gestures with her hands. "But you know…"

"This town belongs to everyone here, and we can stay as _long-as-we-LIKE._" Flonne finished bitterly, emphasizing the last few words, tying them together with some kind of ethereal string no one could obviously see. A few agreeing shouts erupted from behind them.

"When I said… I didn't need you…" his voice was stressed, shaky, and he dared not trust it any longer, yet he pushed on. "That also meant… I didn't need you and all your crap! All these stupid things you're saying to me, and I DON'T need—"

They weren't listening to him. In fact, they'd comically started a card game with a nearby store owner.

A grumble caught in his throat as he tensed, eyes closed stiffly, brow furrowed; the very picture of impatient annoyance. In a quick, violent movement, he jerked up. "FINE!!" his aura swirled around him swiftly, kicking up loose dust. The red from the sandy hillock seemed to dye the purple down to a depressingly familiar shade of dark red.

Laharl saw it straight away, his face becoming masked with both shock and pleading towards Etna hoping she would not carry further, seeing this.

She did.

"My, my…" she began devilishly, ambling slyly up to him, making a short circle. "Did I see red? Am I right, Flonne? Certainly you saw it too…?"

"Yes…!" she said smugly, a wry smile over her face. "Isn't it normally purple?"

"Yeah, the colour your FACE is gonna be if you—" Laharl snapped, glaring at Etna, eyes tailing her as she circled him further.

She gave a short snicker and stopped beside him, pulling over his shoulder. "You can't fool me, Prince…" she took his chin in one hand and stroked down his cheek with another, reanimating the trail of a tear. "I now you want to cry…. I know you want to run a way and hide…. I know those words won't last for long, and I know, that if I say anything more… what you say will never happen." She gazed up at her accomplice slyly, cueing her. "Didn't that colour remind you of something dirty, Flonne?"

"It _did_, Etna," they glanced between themselves, terrible smirks across their faces.

"It was so UGLY!" she highlighted the word and added an aggressive gesture to it. "Just as ugly as the colour of that disgusting Prinny!"

Laharl was already loosing his own fight. His eyes lost the sharpness and now held a sense of desperation in them. _Please, no more…_ he thought quietly, _please no more jokes about her…_

They jeered at him about his mother back and fourth for moments on end until finally he was unable to stand it anymore. He let his head down, gritting his teeth lightly, feeling himself slipping.

Wind kicked up from behind and swept across him, giving him a miserable feeling of loneliness. He tried near desperately to keep down the tears that threatened his eyes and shook his head lightly as if to make it all go away. He clutched at his tight chest and a stifled sob caught in his throat.

Almost abruptly, he threw Etna aside away from him, most likely making her fall or stumble, and bolted down the hill, compelled to push Flonne out of his way as he went.

It was a terrible sense of weakness; of vulnerability. He was running – _crying_ to a devil he trusted yet barely knew.

A number of demons from the street, even some random Prinnies he's never seen before laughed and pointed at him all the way. He hid his face as best as he could, the scarf shielding him occasionally from the stones or other unappreciative objects thrown at him.

When at last he reached his destination after nearly being chased most of the way there, he was out of breath – breath that was already ravaged by sobs. He was frightened, to say in the least now.

Laharl tore open the small old wooden door, whipping inside, slamming it shut after him, his back propped up against it. Slowly, painfully, for his chest and legs burned from running, he sank to the floor, covering his face, burying it in his hands.

There were a few disturbing cracks from the other side that jolted him forward from the shock, followed by harsh shouting.

"C'mon, boy! Let's go! That ain't your mommy!" an almost angry voice cackled. "Why you goin' to her?!"

"Go away!" he pleaded to the shut door. "Leave me alone!!"

Atsu rushed in then, a small dish towel in her hands as she dried them. "What is it? What's going on?" she noticed Laharl, cowering behind the heaving door, his arms up protectively. "Laharl! What's going on? What do those people want?"

"They were— they were ch-chasing me…!" he tried to stop, but he couldn't hide the fact that he'd been frightened enough to hyperventilate himself. She would have found this cute in a sense, ad it not been for such a cruel reason.

"There… come now..." she helped him up and away from the door. "Go over there and lie down for a moment…"

Atsu swung the door in and a man fell forward. She seized the collar of his shirt and pulled him up with such strength Laharl could have mistaken her for a younger adult. She pushed him back and pressed her larger body in the door to block them from getting in again. "Now listen here you folk," she commanded bitterly. "I am caring for this childe, and I will _never_ allow any of you to harm him! Leave here at once!"

A few disappointed, heavy sighs escaped from the mob and they dispersed however slowly. Others just made strange downward motions with their hands as if to say 'forget you', and walked off. She watched every one of them go, being sure they would not return.

When at last she was convinced they had gone, she returned inside, pulling the door closed lightly and turned to Laharl who was at the base of his little mountain of pillows and such. He had his knees up to his forehead, arms wrapped protectively around his legs. "Did you do anything to upset the townsfolk, Laharl…?" she asked gently.

"No…!" he shook his hidden head and swayed uneasily. An outward sob escaped his chest and he clenched his hands tightly. "They just started chasing me… after I ran away from…" his voice was thick and muffled behind his tears.

"Who…?" she coaxed softly, kneeling to him. She wanted to get to the bottom of this... But when Laharl confessed the names of the two he dreaded most at the moment, she had not a clue. "Are they…?"

"They're who I came with… but we got—got into a fight and then I left them… but they found me again and—" he forced himself to slow down, for he noticed that he was beginning to sound like a desperate child. "They said terrible things about my mother… and…" it had finally hit him at full force; some of the things they'd said were inexcusable, and he'd done nothing to protect his mother he… _loved so dearly… _

Atsu came closer to him, and he clamped down on her arms, crying freely as if to say 'I'll never do the same to you if you die'. He would protect her with all his honor.

_So what? _He thought. _Right now… it's okay to cry… she understands. _

"It's alright, Laharl…" she coaxed. "They're gone now… I won't let them hurt you." she pulled him close and rocked with him gently, stroking through his soft blue hair. She pulled back his backward-facing forelocks and kissed the top of his head. "They know better than to mess with me!" she joked lightly.

He rested his head close to her heart to hear its faint beat. The steady sound gradually relaxed him and he let his drying eyes close. He hadn't realised she had the Harusame Flower close to him now.

Gratefully, he took it gingerly and held it to his heart. "…thank you, Atsu…" he said quietly, glancing up at her with soft, settled eyes. "And… I'm sorry for all of this…"

"No…!" she said, almost shocked. "Oh… don't be sorry… you did nothing wring, dear Laharl…" she cradled him closer to him and began rocking again, hoping to get him to relaxed enough to sleep. "If it's anyone who should be sorry, it's those demons…"

He nodded, assuming it was one of those things she didn't want an answer to.

free to flame


	7. When the World was on Fire

disclaimer is the same as always. the only thing i own here in this entire fanfic would be the Harusame Flower and Atsu. ...and the town and all, but that's not important XD

**-Chapter Seven- When the World Was on Fire**

_The sun was warm, bright, the breeze was gentle… it was a pretty day, and Laharl was enjoying it to the best he could, under an old willow just atop the grassy hill overlooking Atsu's house. Its long vines of leaves rustled like whispering in the pleasant, sweet-scented breeze. _

_The people around it looked like ants. The…_

_Around it? Why around it?_

_Well… she was sweet; of course they'd want to be around her. He certainly did. _

_He thought nothing of it and jumped down the backside of the hill, roaming the slope side freely. It was a beautiful sight; dark forests masked with the warm day, letting light filter in here and there below. Glowing shrouds of what looked like orbs of light danced upward to meet the top of the growing bushes, Fireflies' jumping lanterns… ominous looking, but wonderful. Beautiful. _

_Above it, mountains._

_He didn't remember these structures anywhere near town, but he appreciated seeing it now. Though… looking back at the town that was…_

_Smoke?_

_Maybe Atsu was making a bonfire? _

…_but why wasn't he afraid? He knew normally before, he wouldn't really care…but this was Atsu he was talking about, and as far as he knew, she did NOT have a hearth anywhere in or outside of her house. _

_And the smoke was coming from that exact spot; he could easily tell this form where he was standing on the other side of the hill. He knew he should have been worried; what if something was wrong?_

_So there was a little smoke. Nothing to get all paranoid about. He had a Harusame flower in his hands… so that's why he was so calm. _

_He didn't like it._

_He tried to shake it out of his hands, but the flower stayed clung to him as if it were a living thing and would not let go. _

_It flashed a silver-gold and when the light dies away, he was left holding a Bleach-white flower, golden pollen in the inside. A Lilly._

_He screamed and attempted to pull it away and ran. He ran as if it would get him away from the flower that was seemingly stuck to him. What a terrible nightmare._

_He ran back to the crown of the hill, racing for it with all his strength… and when he saw what had been waiting for him…_

_The world was on fire._

_On…fire… Atsu's house was on fire, the people rioting around it, dancing, were roaring louder than the flames themselves with laughter._

_The flames billowed upward as if mocking him._

_With only a moment's hesitation, he bolted down the steep hill, waving his arms at them. "Go away! Leave her alone!" he demanded, fear rising in him. "Leave! Get away from here!" _

"_This crazy old devil was dumb enough to help you! And you let her!" a familiar voice called out from down in front. There was fury in the shoppe keeper's plump face. _

_Laharl ground his teeth, already having the urge to kill this man. "Back off, you bastard! Do you have any idea who you're dealing with!?" he threw him aside easily with a small blast of aura._

"_Yeah, quite frankly I do; a dead old lady and some puny half-wit demon stupid enough to try and stop _all_ of us." There was a loud growl of agreement from behind him and the shoppe keeper smirked, looking slyly up at the prince._

"_What does Atsu have anything to do with all this? Your reasons are stupid!" _

"_It has a lot to do with it, boy." He snarled from the ashen ground. _

_Laharl's eyes widened with realisation. "Where is she!?" he demanded. _

_The keeper shrugged._

"_Dammit—" he pulled the man to his feet by the collar of his ragged shirt and held him tightly, wanting to shake. "Where IS she!?" _

_He pointed inside the flame-drowning house expressionlessly._

_Laharl dropped him abruptly and slammed himself backward into the splintering door, bashing it in almost too easily. A wall of smoke came swelling out at him, along with small but intense flames that licked at his chest. The smoke stung his eyes, but he threw himself inside anyway, casting away any thoughts of safety for himself. _

"_Atsu!" he called, bracing himself at the new barrier of flames, shielding his face. He already felt weak. "Atsu, where are you?!" _

_He heard a muffled fit of mocking laughter from behind him, emanating from the maniacal pack outside. _

_Why did they hate him so much? Hate him enough to hurt an innocent old woman? _

_Unforgivable. _

"_Atsu!!" _

"_Atsu, oh Atsu!" came mocks from behind._

"_SHUT UP!!" he warned, rather than demanding. But it was too much sound to make, too much air to let out and not enough to take back in. _

_He collapsed to one knee, feeling faint and somehow managed to get himself back outside, panting against the dirt ground. An unfamiliar hand and face pulled him back up to his feet harshly, jerking him cruelly to stand when he had no strength to even hold himself up at the moment. He fell almost the second the man let go._

_Laharl lay there for moments, relearning how to breathe the bitter-smelling air, coaxing his awareness back to full. _

"_C'mon…" a voice cooed gently to him then, from seemingly nowhere. It was oddly warm, comforting; familiar. "You can do it… I know you can… you have to…! You must go save her… please? Don't let her die, Laharl…"_

_He glanced around, searching for the disembodied voice. He was unaware of the other people jeering at him, unaware of their actions of temptations. At this point, he simply just didn't care about them anymore. _

_The white flower glowed softly in his hand, and he understood. _

_Without anther word or thought, he dashed back into the house. A warm, gentle voice coaxing him through it… but he could depict no words… he couldn't clearly hear them…_

_Couldn't remember. _

_A peculiar scent caught up to him as he entered the kitchen. Burning plants… burning… he shook away the thought and pressed on against the deathly heat that seemed to cover him in waves. He swore it was tangible, and that if he reached out, he could just swipe it away._

_The scent became more and more noticeable and he choked back a gag. The smell of… burning flesh…_

_He prayed to no god he knew that Atsu was alright; rather have his own skin that which was burning, and not Atsu's. _

_Too late._

_The moment he entered the living room, he not only saw, but smelt it that very instant. Atsu lay before the stack of now burning cushions her face down in them, arm up as if once searching for something… as if digging in to them, looking for…_

_Laharl collapsed to his knees, starting at his burnt hands. "It's… it was… _my _fault… my fault she died…" he shook his head piteously. "She was looking for me… to be sure I was safe…" he sank into himself then, clasping his hands around his heaving shoulders. "Why do such a stupid thing…? Why… care for me more than herself…?" he would have cried, and in a way he was, but the scalding flames that thrashed at his back and body seemed to prevent tears. "Why…? I'd rather it be me…" he sobbed quietly, still tearless. _

_A resonating crack shrieked above him and he glanced up sharply, startled. The roof was caving in… and before he had a chance to move let alone stand, it came crashing down on him with a thundering slam. Looks like he got his wish. _

_All went surprisingly white rather than black, and he knew it was over. _

* * *

don't flip out or anything, he's not dead. i could never kill the greatest character of all time...XD i'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible... IF, that is, my computer will let me. it says it is apparently crashing or infected with soemthing i guess. wahtever.


	8. As if in Dreaming

...same as always; i dun own Disgaea, i only own Atsu. and flames are always welcome.

-Chapter Eight- As if in Dreaming

"Laharl…" he felt a warm, light touch at his shoulder, and unconsciously thought of it as a reminiscing flame grazing his arm. He tensed slightly, becoming aware of a soft, concerned voice. "Laharl…!"

He tried to roll over, away from the disturbance, and yet more than anything, what he wanted to do was wake up.

"Laharl, honey, wake up…!" the voice was becoming more familiar… "Laharl, you were dreaming, wake up!"

Atsu.

Without fully opening his eyes, he jolted up and flung his arms around her, taking her into a tight embrace, refusing to let go.

"Oh my…!" she exclaimed, taking his shoulders lightly, getting him to face her. "What is this..? What's this about, dear?"

"So it was…" he felt overwhelmed, staring up at her old eyes. Old, but still alive. He knew the tightness in his throat, and simply allowed himself to fall into her embrace again, crying tears of relief freely. "…just a dream…"

"Come now…" she stoked away his tears with a soft hand. "Was it really all that terrible…? Do you want to talk about it?"

He told her.

"And then… when I found you, you were…" he couldn't allow himself to finish. Don't spoil with new tears of despair; it doesn't work that way.

"Oh my…" she repeated, less shocked than he suspected. It was as if she'd heard it before, or at least something similar.

It wasn't until then that she realised the Harusame Flower had been sitting beside him overnight.

"Laharl…" she said. "There's… something I should have told you earlier, about that Flower…"

"Yeah? What is it?" general curiosity.

"Other than calming people… the Harusame has another power."

He dared not ask.

"Dreams."

Laharl just about fell over. "You mean to tell me that all this time I've been having these weird dreams just because of some stupid flower!?" he asked hotly. Well, now doesn't that sound like the Laharl she doesn't know?

"Partly, yes." She began, folding her hands. At least this topic wasn't so hard to explain. "You see, this flower can create dreams of any sort. The first one you had the other night – about your mother- must have been a kind of 'reunion dream' where you see or have visions of someone who is deceased. These can be happy, sad… melancholy, anything, really."

"…you… know about my mother? And my dream? But I never told you about that one…"

"You were talking in your sleep, you said one word, and it was 'mother'. And you were crying."

He felt his face go instantly red. "Were you…watching me…?"

"Well, I thought you were awake, at first, so I came into check on you, see if you wanted or needed anything."

"…that wasn't a good dream." He shuddered, referring to how she had said some of these 'reunion dreams' could be happy. "It was like… watching my mother leave again." He glanced down away from her, rubbing his arms as if cold. "It wasn't any kind of reunion."

"It could have been a vision – a dreaming memory of what had happened." She dared not ask what had occurred to make him say 'leave' – she had expected him to say 'die'. "But in any case, the Harusame Flower can produce any sort of dream associated with similar things."

"…like nightmares?"

"Yes, even nightmares." She answered softly.

"…Atsu?"

"Yes Laharl?"

"…I had a dream once, that I had two good friends…" he began, hoping she would understand what he was already trying to say. "but they got in a fight with me, so they left… and then I found a town, where I met this really nice old woman… who said I could stay with her until I pulled myself back together… but Atsu…?" he gave her a pleading look that nearly said it all. "I don't think I'm ready yet… I haven't pulled myself together at all; I fell like I've gotten worse…"

She knew exactly what he was trying to say, in this story, so to speak. But… she was unsure if she could help him any more than she already was; she didn't know what had occurred in his past—she wasn't even sure just how exactly he'd ended up in this town in the first place.

"…what do I do…?" he whispered, wishing it really could have been all just a dream.

Or at least be able to wake up.

The morning was soon ending, and nearing noon. Laharl was helping Atsu outside with a few random chores which included going a ways back to a place he'd never seen or even knew about before. It was like a bird house… only downstairs.

The hill he had visited in a previous dream was truly there, and very noticeable of course, for it loomed over her house like some kind of natural guardian. And it also provided a special haven she'd kept to herself up till now.

What he had never noticed before, was the amazing glass structure on the other side of the hill that not only represented a window, but also a perch, and bench.

Inside, under the hill, was a tall, towering room with a beautifully constructed black and silver metal cage that held countless doves.

She smiled to herself, seeing the bewildered look on his face as they entered, the light from the prismatic glass window filtered down and reflected off of the bronze floor. "You know… back when my sister and I were young, we loved birds… And we loved making things like this." She explained lightly, her face full with a remembering smile and expression.

He turned to her, shocked. "You MADE all this!?"

Atsu gave a simple smile and led him inside, showing him to the vast cage. "Yes. And these are our birds; Mourning Doves."

"Mourning Doves? Huh…" he almost wanted to try and count them inside this massive structure, but decided against it. He'd probably be there the entire week. "…you keep them in there, locked up?"

She gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, no, no… you see these bars? They are much too wide to keep even me in that cage. That window is always open; they come and go as they please, and I keep them healthy and fed."

He was purely amazed. "Atsu… why mourning doves?"

"Do you know why they call them _mourning_ doves…?"

"Because they only come out during the morning?"

"No Laharl… _mourning _doves… spelt with a 'u'"

The first thing that flashed through his mind when he heard this was standing there with is father on the top of the cliff, looking down at his mother's grave.

It was not a pleasant thing to remember.

"…you see, we thought it we could take something so sad and make it look beautiful, we could lessen the pain."

Had she not have said the last few words he would have burst out 'What, glorify pain? Sadness?!' such a thing put him in a sour, defensive mood.

Atsu noticed this almost instantly and landed a hand down on his shoulder. "Come with me." She said gently, taking him to the side of the cage where there was a wire-frame door. She opened it easily by swinging it outward and led him inside.

For minutes he felt he just stood there, looking straight up at the Mourning Doves fluttering and perched above him. The very site of so much activity, yet utter tranquillity settled his mood down, and he was gradually calmed him.

Atsu held an arm up, and a golden-tan dove fluttered down to her, settling on her offered hand. Gold? A golden dove? He'd never seen one before, and found himself staring.

Atsu turned slowly to him, a peaceful look spread across her old face. "Here, take her." She instructed sincerely, extending her arm to him. He wasn't exactly sure why, or even how to.

"Why?" he began.

"I want you to see for yourself… I want you to let her go."

"What? Why…? She looks so different… so special…" he was attempting to stall her for a reason he himself didn't quite recognize.

"She is. She was the very first dove I collected… my sister chose her above any other… and she's been here ever since we brought her here."

"…the why let her go…?"

"Dear Laharl… I want you to see, that no matter how many times you let someone go you love and trust, they will always return to you."

At last he understood. Flonne's face flashed through his mind and he wanted to turn away as if this golden dove were her.

How could she have been so… terrible to him? He trusted her… and he knew she had at least at one time trusted him…

_Trust…_

Is that what Atsu was trying to say now? That Flonne would come back to him? He hoped she was right, and lent his hand out to her, waiting for Atsu to pass of her golden dove to him.

When she touched his arm and gripped ever so lightly on his hand, he felt at… peace, like she was the very embodiment of the Harusame Flower.

"That's it… now come with me…" she guided him to the glass window, opening some unknown door and stepped out onto a terrace with silver columns.

He steadied himself, not wanting to trip or cause the bird to fall or loose her balance. Slow, small cautious steps were made until he reached Atsu's side. He took one last look at the golden feathers, then glanced hesitantly up at Atsu, as if to say 'are you sure you want me to let her go?'

A simple nod and he believed her.

Laharl held up his arm, waiting for the golden bird to take flight. When she didn't leave at first, he became worried and doubted. Atsu gave him a reassuring look, and he tried again, this time jerking his arm slightly at the top of his reach.

She took off in a flurry of wings and feathers, and they watched her go. It was something terribly sad to him, and yet he couldn't place just why he felt like this for some bird. Maybe it was because she was so special a thing to Atsu?

Or because he seemed to symbolize her to Flonne and Etna's departure as well.

_Departure_… and she was descending… an animal shape? So that was it. His mother had taken on the form of something inhumanly, and so was this bird which he had some kind of tie to. Both departed by descending…

He shook away the torturous thoughts and Atsu took him back to her house where they would continue with their random chores. He couldn't help but glance back up at the hill occasionally for maybe a glimpse of gold.

It was nearly 5pm when he heard a familiar cooing sound, and he gazed out the window from the living room atop his little fortress of cushions. It was low, mournful, of course, and he recognised it instantly. Swiftly he jumped down and called for Atsu, hurrying outside.

The golden dove stood perfectly still, as if waiting for him at the door, looking straight up at him. "She came back…" he breathed, a little wide-eyed. "How…?"

He felt Atsu's hand at his shoulder, and he glanced up at her questionably.

"You see? No matter how far they go…" she bent down to take up her bird and stoked the top of its head. "They will always know where to return to, and that it their friend's side." She turned to him sweetly. "I'm sure your friends will return to you soon enough.

They would have to. She couldn't and would not be there forever.

Sleep did not come easily for him that night. Laharl lie there most of the time awake atop his cloud of blankets and things, staring blankly up at the low ceiling. He had a horrible sense of foreboding again, and had a string urge to go check on Atsu.

So he did.

He jumped down lightly, his socks even greater muffling the thump against the soft carpet. He stayed there, crouched for a moment as if listening for any kind of movement, and soon made his way back to her room.

Slowly, for he knew the door creaked when touched, he gently pushed it to a comfortable open, ajar enough whereas he could slip inside.

He came to the corner of her large bed nearly staring at her. _How… peaceful…_ he thought slowly sighing.

_Almost too peaceful._

Laharl trotted up to the side of the bed she was closest to and stood on his toes, leaning over her chest, ear pressed down to listen for a beat.

How terribly faint it was… it made him very uncomfortable, and he pulled away quickly as if he stayed listening too long, he would hear its end.

He shook the feeling off and glanced down at her soft, aged face. The sense loomed over him like a dank cloud as if… _this_ would be the last time he would see her… Alive.

He fought it down and climbed up on the other side of the bed, hiding his face in bath a separate pillow and his scarf. Hell, he thought that if that scarf was any more reactive, he would have considered it his good friend.

Laharl lay atop the covers, not wanting to disrupt her any more than he probably already had by trying to listen to her heart.

He felt the need to be close to her, to protect her. Not because of the ugly things he'd seen in his previous dreams, but merely because…

By the time midnight had come, he eased… alert; not fully awake and found the blanket had been pulled snug up to his shoulder. Atsu still lay beside him, her back turned, and without fully realising it, he pulled closer to her.

In moments he'd relaxed and fallen asleep and slept a peaceful, dreamless night for once in a long while.


	9. Too Deep of Sleep

...i think at this point i'm just BEGGING for flames. have fun to you all who hate laharl's fluffiness! i can relate to you even though... i'm the one who wrote it. strange, huh? XD

-Chapter Nine- Too Deep of Sleep

True morning and he had expected to be alone in this old bed.

He was not.

Atsu still lay beside him, motionless. Sleeping. Sleeping? Or… It was a very uncommon thing to see her sleeping at such a time. It was nearly noon, he knew this, and she had _always _been up and about long before that. It made him terribly nervous.

"Atsu," it was almost a command. "Atsu, wake up…" Laharl sat upright, a cold feeling rising in him and he trembled lightly. "Please Atsu… Get up…!"

She did not.

He shook her shoulder gently at first, and found it limp. "Atsu!" he was becoming more frantic and propped himself further up to kneel. "Atsu!!"

If she was supposed to ignore him like this, she was a really good actress…

"Atsu, please…! This isn't funny!" his words were weak, unsteady. He felt hot tears trickle down his face before he'd even admitted to himself the worst possible.

Shakily, he crept over to her side to check for any trace of a heartbeat.

Nothing.

Fear struck him and he jerked away. Grief… everything hit him all at once, and he jumped off of the bed in some kind of panic. "dammit…" he rambled. "I need help… Atsu needs... she needs…" he stopped himself for two reasons. One, this was again one of those times where he found himself talking to the air after someone had gone. And two, standing there rambling to himself wasn't getting Atsu help any faster.

He bolted outside to into the small town pleading for help anywhere he saw people. Most of them acted as if he simply wasn't there.

At last, turning to the last person he would suspect to for any sort of help, he ran to a familiar stand-market and found the shoppe keeper who had sold him the Harusame flower. "Please! Can you help me?" he pleaded, bracing himself against the counter. He was unsure why he wanted to ask this man in the first place anyway, after all he'd said… but then, that had been just a dream.

A very realistic, terrifying dream, but still _just _a dream.

"…what, Laharl, was it?" the man rumbled, turning to face him slowly. "whatsa matter, kid?"

"Please… my friend Atsu needs help, she wont—"

"Boy…" the keeper began almost sharply. " 'Round here, no one really… _helps_ other folk. Every demon for himself." He bent over the counter and Laharl flinched, expecting to be smacked. He leaned back away from the nearing man. "And you know… I been watchin' you run around ta other places… y'just don't get it, do ya?"

"…huh…?" he didn't understand where the kindly, 'normal talking' old man had gone from when he bought from him. That was probably the problem, he figured; he wasn't a customer anymore.

"It's cuz you're cryin. The reason you're being ignored s'much is cuz no one answers ta cryin. No cryin here; num'er one rule."

So what. That was something he couldn't stop even for the world right now, and how the keeper had said it, only made things worse. "You bastard!" he kept his voice strong up until this point. "I can't help it…!" as hard as he willed it not to, his words lilted at the end with a sob. "Atsu is… Doesn't anyone care that she's in trouble!?"

"Boy," the man snapped bitterly. "Did you even check for a heartbeat?"

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. All this talk about the heart…

"Th'n no one c'n help you, son." He leaned back, a calm yet stern look in his eyes and face. "She's dead."

A low mumble caught in Laharl's throat and he sobbed past gritted teeth. "You bastard… none of you care, do you…? That your town's nicest devil just… died…"

"Don't blame it on me, boy. Besides, if y' ask me, that woman was a little messed up in th' head. She was always ranting about _love_ an' _care_ an' all that." he grunted when he said the words.

"Because that's what you're SUPPOSED to do!!" he admitted loudly and whipped away from the plump man's dirty counter and found himself in the square of the town.

Out of breath, he scanned the area from a stationary position; looking small, helpless and crying.

From a small distance off, only slightly off of his view, a young angle trainee noticed him. "It's Laharl!" she gasped lightly, wanting to run to him.

Etna jabbed her with the wood of her spear.

As if like the obedient dog Etna thought she was, she settled down, eyes still set on the distressed demon, concern clear on her face. "Oh, but Etna…" she complained sadly and grasped the devil's hand, tugging lightly, trying to get her to follow. She did not move.

"Help!! Please!! Someone help me!!" his unstable voice carried even to them and Flonne shook herself.

"See!? He needs help!"

"Is that really something you should be saying after what we did to him the other day?" Etna muttered viciously.

"Etna!" she insisted further. "Come on!" Flonne pulled at her arm again with all her strength.

"I will NOT!" she roared, tearing her arm away. "Listen to me! You _chose _to be one my side—"

"I didn't _choose_ anything! You forced me!"

"I didn't tell you what to say, Flonne, and you could have said no."

"You threatened me with my life!" she protested loudly, a fierce glint in her sapphire-violet eyes.

Etna grumbled impatiently, yet still finding her protest amusing. "Listen, do you really think he'll want _your_ help after all you said to him yesterday…?" she mused acrimoniously.

"After all _I_ said…? Etna, all due respect, YOU said most of it!"

"I did," she smirked happily. "And unlike you, I meant it all and don't regret any of it!"

Flonne hesitated for a moment, watching him run to another shoppe keeper and plead for help. "Just look at him, Etna…"

"Pathetic."

"No! He needs our help!!" she was getting tired of this.

"Flonne, he said it himself; he doesn't want our help! Why do you think he hasn't come looking for US for help!?"

"Because!" she yelled hotly, stamping a foot. "You're a selfish devil who will do ANTHING to make poor Laharl feel bad!!"

"You were like that too, yesterday!" Etna retorted just as loudly.

"Only because you told me to!"

"Like you didn't have a choice!"

"You were _threatening_ me, Etna!"

At this she threw her head back and gave an evil laugh.

"You're a bitch, you know that?!" at this point she didn't care she'd cursed. Now she was serious.

"Why, thank you…!" Etna took a deep bow, and it gave Flonne a string urge to knock her down while she had the chance. "But you know, you're quite the devil yourself."

"Sure! Whatever!" she shrugged it off, glancing around to find Laharl again.

"Flonne." She stood very straight, a stern look on her slack face then. "Just know this; you chose to be with me yesterday. He's not gonna take too kindly to you again. You chose to be like me yesterday. You chose to be—"

"Well I chose to be his friend now!" at this, she turned and stalked away and began to Laharl. She ignored the fact Etna had completely left out how she'd also been threatening her to do many other things. Not just for the sake of her life. Etna had told her that if she refused her, she would take control over he body and force her to do it all anyway… and throw in a few extra things that more than likely would have caused Seraph Lamington to consider his dear Flonne a sinner.

"Laharl-san!" she cried, rushing to him, arm outstretched as Etna walked the opposite way in disgust.

His ear flicked backward and he spun around. For a moment he didn't recognize the concern in Flonne's voice and mistook it for something else. He backed himself up against the counter of a random demon's market-stand, his hands pressed tightly against the wood behind him.

"Flonne," he said almost delighted, almost surprised when he had intended it to be bitter, angry. His own voice was betraying him at this point.

"Laharl…! You were calling for help!"

He shook his head, wanting to refuse her and he almost came out with 'no, not you, I don't need help from you' but he realised of course now was not the time to be angry or choose who got to help. "Atsu is—" he swallowed past he iron in his throat. "She won't wake up…!"

"Who is Atsu…?" Flonne asked as gently as she could be.

"My friend…"

The shoppe keeper behind them scoffed something terrible and Flonne stamped her foot loudly.

"You stay out if this! I don't see you helping him!" she turned back to Laharl when the man backed away and was silent. "C'mon, Laharl… take me to her…"

Already, she was doubting.


	10. Night of the Stars

-Chapter Ten- Night of the Stars

By the time he and Flonne had gotten back to Atsu, he was less cautious around Flonne. He let his guard down and didn't force himself to hold in his tears when they got there.

She took one look at the old woman on the bed and shook her head, turning to Laharl.

"No…" he took a step back, shaking his head defiantly; not wanting to hear what she had to say though he already knew what was coming. He coaxed the word over and over as if it would shield his ears from the truth.

"Laharl…"

"No…no…"

"I'm sorry…"

"No…"

"But she's gone."

Of course he had heard her anyway. He sank to his knees, clutching the side of the bed letting his head down, shoulders heaving weakly.

And that was all. He felt cruelly weak… Flonne settled beside him, cooing softly. "There… hush now…" her words and tine together made her sound more like Atsu rather than Flonne. "…but we need to put her to rest, Laharl… let me help you."

It would be a sizable amount of time before he would even so much as attempt to stand again.

Flonne had gone off somewhere in town, leaving Laharl to himself for about an hour or so now. He knew she had intended this, but what she could never know, was he took this time to do it all himself.

By now night had fallen and he was left in the cold silver moonlight to dig her grave himself. He was hand digging it.

Not a problem.

Or so he thought; though with her for only a few days, he couldn't help but stop and think about how well she had treated him, and his mind was still full of memories of her. They were, after all, most recent.

He tried to continually convince himself he was alright.

Full night had fallen and he still had seen no sight of Flonne. Well... what is there to see when you are half blinded by tears? She'd been there almost the whole time, offering him help softly every now and then without his knowing.

It was like he was in his own little world.

By now he'd finished digging her grave; the troublesome task gratefully over.

Now came the hardest part; carving her headstone.

It took him a moment to think of what to write. He hardly knew a thing about her… when she was born… where… he only knew these vague things; she was a sister, at least, died 00 month XX year, and that she had meant a lot to him. Not much to go off of, and it nearly tore him in half.

This wonderful person he trusted and loved so much and even spent nearly a week with had just passed away, and he knew nothing about her whatsoever.

He began again, wondering just where to start in the hazy inscription he'd be responsible to carve.

_Atsu_

_Born --, died 00 month XX year. _

_A caring sister and a like a mother to me. Always there when I needed her; always helpful and never angry even after all I_

_put her through. _

_Rest in piece, _

_My heart will always be with you. _

He glanced away, a sob catching in his chest and he pushed the stone away. He'd left the date for her birth blank hoping that if someone ever came by, they would know who it was and maybe take the time to stop and carve it in for him. Otherwise, the main reason hew felt so terrible in a sense, was because of the last line he fashioned.

They had always, of course, been talking about the heart… and now, writing it on her grave like this… it was just too much. He'd even gone to the trouble of trying to make the headstone in the shape of a heart.

One thing he did not fully recognize the trouble of, however, was where he had to carry not only this heavy stone marker, but also Atsu's body. He'd dug the grave at the top of the hill beside her house, where only hours ago she had taken him to go underneath and show him her collection of mourning doves. Where he's once dreamt of, other than the epic background it had held in the fantasy.

He knew all too well he would be unable to carry such a burden after he'd finally gotten the marker to the top. Something that would have never given him trouble before, now felt like it weighed over a ton, no sarcasm or exaggeration intended. He had forced himself to sit after he'd properly placed the headstone, feeling winded in any case. He wondered just how exactly he could manage carrying her himself being in such a weakened state.

Preparing, more or less stalling himself, he rubbed his hands together slowly and bent to touch the body's covered shoulders. As if it had sent him a shock, he jolted away and Flonne came to settle beside him.

"Laharl…"

His small sobs were weak and he could almost literally and honestly say he was getting tired of crying. It didn't suit him at all, and he didn't want it to.

This was not the way he wanted to be seen; especially by Flonne.

Only now had he come to realise he'd been right the entire time. If he had let Etna see, she would never shut up. Let Flonne see, and neither would she.

Atsu was always perfect.

Just this once he wanted a reprieve… but it seemed the only reprieve he's ever gotten was lying dead in his hands.

He sat there, staring up at the starry sky, her limp head in his lap.

The stars were so pure… so scintillating... so brightly lit that they seemed to give off their own light that seemed to nearly drown him as he reminisced over the short time he'd had with her.

One of the stars flickered more brightly and his attention was slowly pulled to it. He wondered if it was just Atsu waving goodbye… or if she was just saying hello.

"You know, Laharl…" Flonne began slowly, taking his shoulder. He jolted slightly and turned half-way to look at her. "Seraph Lamington always told me… that for humans… and sometimes demons, that if you are really sad after someone leaves and passes on… they will become a star… wanting to let you know that it's okay to cry… but also to not be sad for them…"

He gazed back up at the superlative sky, thinking back to his mother… and how she had taken on the form of the Red Prinny… her tears shattering as ice as they hit the ground…

Oh, how brightly the stars shone that night…

And then he thought of Vyers. At first, Laharl had wondered why the man had been taking it all so hard… until he realised Vyers- no. not 'Vyers'. Krichevskoy.

_His father. _

Of course he would cry. He was watching his wife die.

Again.

"Laharl…?"

He gave a stifled sob and threw himself in her arms, burying his face in her safe arms. "Of course he was crying… he was… my father…" he muttered softly, his frail arms shaking. Flonne nudged his arm lightly, and when he looked at her, she pointed upward.

Two altered coloured stars seemed to wink at him as a third joined the couple.

Atsu.

"You see, Laharl…?" Flonne said quietly, getting him to look at her. "She doesn't want you to be sad…"

"Well tell her I'm sorry then…! I just lost a good friend! What else am I supposed to do? Laugh?" he sobbed, shaking his head.

She took him into a tight embrace and held him there. "Don't forget, Laharl… I'm your friend too… I can help you…"

He hated when she did things like this… it made him feel… She was being so kind… so gentle… so much like…

His mother.

He glanced up at her and met her in the face, nearly staring. He saw the same eyes… the same caring expression… the same smile.

That smile didn't belong to her; her arms were too comfortable…

It was like having a second mother.

After another moment or so of what seemed like small pep-talks, Flonne managed to get Laharl up and helped him carry the body and placed her inside the grave.

"…why are you helping me?" he asked at last, after all was said and done and the grave was covered. He stared off into the distance, sitting next to the tomb, watching over the cascading hills that took the place of the epic background he once knew from his dream.

"Laharl…" Flonne was standing a ways behind him. "I already told you… I'm your friend-- I _want_ to be your friend… I want you to trust me."

A small hesitation and he turned to look at her slyly, almost cautiously. "…I trust you."

There was a sudden sparkle in her eyes and it made him stop himself from continuing on any further. The sombre look on her ashen face made him turn and see for himself the moment after there was a slight flutter before him.

A golden mourning dove had perched herself on the stone marker and stood before a Red Moon.

The moon, full in all its scintillating glory was red. Darker to one side; a trail of greenish-teal leading down from it. Small pinpoints of light danced around it and upwards to the red moon, and Laharl stood, turning to face it. Two small words slipped from his mouth; "Akai… Tsuki,"

"Oh, look, Laharl!" Flonne said excitedly, coming to stand beside him. "Look what the dove brought with it!" she held her hand out to the golden bird and it dropped a pale blue flower in her palm. "What is it called?" she held it to her face, taking in the wonderful scent. "It smells beautiful!"

"…a Harusame flower."

Distant singing could be heard, yet no source could be found in sight as a single snowflake fell and drifted down, mingling and dancing in his face.

Snow? And the Prinnies rang out,

_Akai Tsuki, Akai Tsuki…_

_Tsumi wo okashita mono do mono…_

_Kegare-o kiyomeru, Akai Tsuki..._

_Koyoi wa darega umare kawaru…?_

_Koyoi was darega… umare kawaru…?_

The stars were brighter than ever.

* * *

;-; i'm so sorry to you all! ...well, those who like the story and his fluffiness at least. xD and here i say; if you didn't like it to start with , why come all this way to finish? lololz, i hoped whoever everone is, and whatever you support or don't, you all liked it. it's my first NOT one-shot that's finished-- YAY!


End file.
